


Mistaken for the Night Surgeon

by PopWitch



Category: Gravity Falls, Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Lots of profanity thanks to Amber and Luigi, Post-Canon (for Gravity Falls), Pre-Canon (for Repo!)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 16:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PopWitch/pseuds/PopWitch
Summary: Ford accidentally finds himself in the year 2056, where Dipper's made some similar (but poor) life choices and GeneCo has a dangerous hold over the entire country.





	Mistaken for the Night Surgeon

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fanfiction over a year ago when I was still in a Repo! the Genetic Opera shadowcast and thought it'd make a pretty neat crossover. I'm glad I found my old file recently so I'm picking it back up and doing it justice! I'm writing the chapters as I go so please bear with me.

On the kitchen table was a package wrapped in holographic paper and covered with stamps depicting various chrome buildings. It looked like it was wrapped by someone with clumsy hands. It sat there, untouched, until Dipper and Mabel came downstairs for breakfast.

“Grunkle Stan, whose is that?” asked Dipper as he seated himself at the kitchen table, unable to tear his eyes away from the intriguing package. Mabel was equally enamored – her hands went out to it immediately.

“It’s addressed to you kids,” Stan replied with a grunt as he turned the page of his newspaper.

“Oh! Oh! Who’s it from?” The package was soon held in Mabel’s tiny hands, her facial expression turning to one of confusion once she read the name of the sender. “Blendin?”

“That guy again?” Dipper groaned. Blendin was frustrating, to say the least. But maybe whatever was in this package would offer some kind of explanation as to why the time traveler had made a deal with Bill, ultimately causing Weirdmageddon.

“Let’s open it and see what it is!” Mabel’s hands tore at the wrapping paper before Stan began to escort her and her brother out of the kitchen.

“Take it to the TV room. I’m tryin’ to read the paper,” Stan said, opening his newspaper back up as soon as he sat down again.

Dipper turned to look back at their uncle with a frown. Mabel had already sat down on the floor, pretzel-style, and he soon joined her. Grinning almost maniacally, she tore the holographic paper apart in only a matter of seconds. Little bits of chrome now littered the floor, along with a yellow tape measure depicting a simplified hourglass.

“Why did he send us his time tape?” The younger twin scratched his head, staring at the object on the floor. “He spent a pretty long time getting it back from us.”

“Look! There’s a letter.” Mabel waved the piece of paper around in front of Dipper’s face before clearing her throat and reading from it, in her best impression of Blendin’s voice. “Dear Dipper and Mabel Pines. That triangle really did a number on me. My body is a temple! I didn’t think he’d use it to cause the apocalypse! Geez. Anyway, you kids have been a real pain, but I guess I owe you one this time. Almost destroyed your town and all. Also, I got fired (again). Before I have to go back to prison, here’s a belated birthday present. Maybe you guys can fix the past. Signed, Blendin Blandin.”

Both twins exchanged concerned glances. Neither of them cared too much about Blendin losing his job – that was his own fault this time. But the thought of going back in time and preventing Weirdmageddon was too appealing. Maybe there was a way Dipper and Mabel could get their uncles to make up before Bill took over. Or-

“Kids!” Stan called from the kitchen. “Gnomes got into the kitchen again!” He’d call for his brother – he was an expert at drop kicking gnomes – but there was no way Ford would hear him from all the way in the basement.

Somewhat frantically, the Mystery Twins scrambled up to assist their great uncle, leaving the time tape behind in the process. The day soon became a series of errands and chores for Dipper and Mabel, first helping Stan with tasks around the house and then assisting Soos with a few projects he was building.

During this time, Ford made a rare appearance upstairs to fix a cup of coffee. As he waited for his coffee to brew with his own homemade coffee maker, he wandered into the TV room to check up on their pet axolotl. On his way, he stumbled on the stray time tape and almost broke the device in the process.

“What’s this?” the scientist asked himself, ignoring the beeping of the coffee maker behind him. “It looks rather unusual for a tape measure. I’ve never seen this logo for any company before.” Experimentally, he began to pull the tape out of the holder, testing to see how far it could go. It wasn’t long until Ford lost his grip and the tape snapped back.

There was a distinct stillness before the Mystery Shack disappeared before his eyes. The worn wallpaper, shag carpet, dinosaur skull, television, and everything else were gone in an instant. Ford could only watch as the glass tank disintegrated, the water turning into tiny droplets before leaving without a trace.

The TV room had transformed into a large, warehouse-like space, filled with lifeless medical equipment and contained by distressed walls. Nothing looked like it had been sanitized recently. Placed on shelves that went all the way up to the ceiling, jars and storage containers were abundant, holding what looked like… organs?

Ford was far too concerned with trying to wrap his head around what just happened. He was filled with curiosity, excitement, and just a little bit of fear – emotions he hadn’t felt since Bill’s demise. Sure, planning his travels across the world with Stanley was exciting, but their trip together would never give him the same thrill. That thrill of chasing after the paranormal and getting to experience anomalies firsthand.

Curiously, the layout was eerily similar to the Mystery Shack’s, right down to the diamond-shaped window on the front door. But that was impossible. Ford had watched as this house was built from the ground up and even though he was gone for 30 years, he was fairly certain it never looked like this at any point.

That is, unless he was in the future, rather than the past. But how many years had passed? Who did this to his house? Ford assumed he had to be long deceased at this point, because he never would have approved such a distasteful setup in his home. (Although a part of him wished he had a room like this to store his specimens and experiments. The gift shop and attractions took up too much space in his house.)

If the Mystery Shack had changed so drastically (perhaps Dipper or Soos sold the house to some quack who couldn’t bother taking care of his medical instruments), then what was outside? Could Gravity Falls be that different, after remaining virtually unchanged after his 30 years in the portal? 

Ford finally took a peek out the window to find that his suspicions were correct. He hadn’t gone through any portals recently, so this couldn’t be another dimension. It had to be the future. The once tranquil skyline of trees had been replaced with cold, intimidating skyscrapers. “Incredible,” Ford murmured. “This kind of progress must have taken nearly a century.” There wasn’t a trace of nature left. Gravity Falls had become a bustling city, with an avenue right outside of (what used to be) the Mystery Shack. Taxis and buses whirred past, all plastered with advertisements for a new plastic surgery procedure that Ford couldn’t care less about.

As interesting as this all was, it was also unpredictable. That’s why Ford reached for his gun before he opened the door. There couldn’t be any harm in exploring a bit – after all, no one else would be able to experience this extraordinary opportunity. If he got here by using the tape measure, then he could surely return back with no problem. He won’t be gone too long; his family probably wouldn’t even notice. Hopefully someone ended up enjoying his coffee for him.

Ford made his way outside and took a few steps back to examine the state of the Mystery Shack. It was now almost completely unrecognizable as his home, aside from the triangle-shaped windows. Ford shuddered; he really should have done something about those. Not only had the Mystery Shack taken on more of a corporate feel, with steel and chrome finishes, but it also had numerous expansions made to it. Now it looked almost hospital-like.

Venturing into town, all of the mom and pop stores that he never really went to were replaced with towering factories and elaborate shopping centers. The city looked like it stretched on and on before finally dwindling down into suburbs. His beloved forests were completely gone. And even if they weren't, the trees wouldn't be able to survive this level of pollution. 

It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday but there were still plenty of people out and about on the streets. Most of them seemed fairly normal, although dressed a bit outlandishly. Occasionally Ford would pass by an alleyway where he saw what he assumed were meth heads. They were young adults in tattered clothes, crowding around each other and shooting needles into themselves. It was incredibly jarring - Gravity Falls never had a drug problem in the past.

Fortunately, the one thing that remained the same was the lake. In that, it was still there - just surrounded by more skyscrapers, factories, and apartments. There was now a steel bridge crossing over it to guide drivers from one side of the city to the other. But, at least there was still an actual lake. 

Unsurprisingly, no one was out fishing. There were a few couples walking along a newly installed stainless steel boardwalk, but that was about it. Quite a few people had elaborate hairdos and black clothes that would look more at home in a club. 

Throughout his walk, he kept glancing at a black limo that always seemed to be in the vicinity. After visiting countless dimensions, Ford really wasn’t too worried. It could be a coincidence, or maybe they were just following him because his clothes were peculiar for whatever year it currently was. They already made him stand out like a sore thumb back in the Gravity Falls he dedicated his studies to. After taking in the sights of this seemingly new city, he started heading back to the Mystery Shack in search of more answers.

The sun had begun to set, and as Ford approached his former home, he noticed there were a few lights on in the newer parts of the building. Perhaps someone there would fill him in. The limo sidled up beside him on the road, driving up slowly before coming to a complete stop. Ford’s hand fell to his gun on his waist – he didn’t sense danger, but something wasn’t right. He continued walking toward the building, even as a man emerged from the vehicle and called after him.

Looking at the Mystery Shack again, there were so many doors and entrances that it took Ford a moment to find the one he came out of. His hand reached for the door, but the man behind him beat him to it.

“Nathan. We need to have a chat,” he demanded, standing in-between Ford and the door. 

In what might have been less than a full second, Ford pushed the other man away and drew out his gun. But he was clearly thrown off at the mention of the name “Nathan.” “I believe you have the wrong person,” he replied with a raised eyebrow, his gun still aimed at the stranger. “If you don’t want to lose a hand, I suggest you go on your way.”

The other man had a crazed look in his eye. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore a well-tailored, pinstripe suit. “Don't try to make me look like an idiot, Nathan. My dad signs your checks. Fuck with me and I'll kill you,” he threatened, drawing a knife that had been hidden up his shirt sleeve and grabbing the older man by the lapel of his coat.

Once he saw the knife, Ford used the back of his gun to knock the weapon out of the other man’s hand. But in those few seconds where his guard was down, he was surrounded by five or so women wearing sunglasses (at night?) and tight, leather shorts paired with blazers. They wouldn't be intimidating if they all didn't aim pump-action shotguns at him. 

Ford stumbled, which gave these strange women the opportunity to handcuff him and shove him into the limo. He had successfully been on the run from Bill Cipher for 30 years – how did some women in fetish outfits capture him? Was his old age catching up with him? With a grunt, he mentally cursed himself in his head.

The handcuffs made it impossible for him to do anything but watch as they confiscated his belongings, from his house key that hung off a UFO keychain to his gun and time tape. Ford tried to break out of them, a skill he picked up from Stan, but these were far more sturdy than the flimsy ones back in his time. 

As frustrating as this situation was, in the back of his mind, he wasn’t all too worried about what might happen. He caused (and survived) the end of the world, after all. Whatever the hell… this was, it couldn’t be too difficult to deal with.

“That was pretty ballsy of you,” the other man scoffed as he calmly sat down in the limo between two of the henchgirls. Ford was drawn out of his thoughts and glared at the man across from him. Obviously this wasn’t some random nutcase – he had an air of authority and wealth about him. Although that was probably just because of his expensive suit. “Did the Repo Man finally lose his mind? Must be pretty fucking lonely with a dead wife and a sick kid.”

“As I told you earlier, I'm not ‘Nathan,’” Ford practically spat. “Whatever business you have with him, it doesn't concern me.”

“Shut the fuck up about that already. You can't fool me.” The man took a cocktail prepared by the henchgirl sitting on his right. “We have some things we need to discuss with you about Blind Mag. And your life's on the line if you don't cooperate.”

“I don't know who that is. But go on. Humor me.”

“Don't tell me you already forgot about that dead slut’s best friend. Tragic.” The man snorted after taking a sip of his drink. “I'll let my dad go over all the exciting details with you. But I'll tell you now. Mag’s been a real bitch and her time with us is almost up. It's going to be your job to take care of her. Don't like it? We'll take you out of the picture too.”

This guy really thought he was some big shot. Probably one of the lower ranking members of the mob. Ford rolled his eyes, despite the position he was in.

“Don't fucking roll your eyes at me, Nathan!” The cocktail the other man had been holding was suddenly flying straight toward Ford's face. He ducked and managed to dodge it, but the glass fell to pieces when it hit the limo’s interior behind him. “I swear to fucking God. My dad's going to make your life hell when I tell him about this shit.”

“I highly doubt that,” Ford replied, careful not to lean back and accidentally cut himself on the broken glass.

“I'd kill you right now if we didn't need you for this assignment.”

There was an uncomfortable silence after that. It wasn’t much longer until the limo came to a halt and the mysterious man practically threw Ford out the door. The henchgirls followed in tow. He was shielded on all sides, with that well-dressed asshole leading the way into the city’s largest building.

It was Ford's first time ever seeing anything like it, even though he had taken several trips to New York City with his family back when he was a kid. The skyscraper, with the word “GeneCo” emblazoned upon it, loomed over everything. But unlike almost any other building of its caliber, there were no windows to be found. What kind of shady operation was this?

Just next to GeneCo was what could best be described as a floating billboard, hovering above the streets below. It played several different videos on a loop, from a concert starring a flashy opera singer to an ad that seemed to be advertising new… eyes? Couldn’t be. They had to be some sort of new colored contacts.

What made GeneCo all the more confusing was its luxurious lobby, making the place look like more of a high-end hotel than an industrial building that somewhat resembled a prison. There was red, lush carpet that met each of the marble walls. The front desk was also made of marble, offset by red and black accents. Ford still couldn’t make sense of what this company actually did. It seemed like it was run by the mob, but its name made it seem as if it were a biotech company. Yet it looked like a swanky establishment. Nothing was adding up.

“What on Earth is this place?” he muttered to himself, which earned him a scowl from the other man.

Sitting in the lobby were numerous people who clearly had some money to throw around. Ford would be the first to admit that he didn’t have much of a fashion sense, but he could at least recognize when clothes weren’t just bought off the rack. These people were glued to portable electronic devices that resembled tablets, yet they projected holographic images. If only Ford could swipe one of those and study it... but he was pushed in the direction of the elevator before he could really think about it. 

Reclining on a couch all by herself, with stiletto-clad feet hanging off the furniture, was a woman who looked more plastic than human. As soon as this unfortunate entourage approached, she lazily stood up and made her way over.

“Luigi, what are you doing with this old guy?” she asked, getting uncomfortably close to the man who had successfully captured Ford.

“I'm taking Nathan upstairs to talk to Pop. It's important GeneCo business and we don't need any women there fucking things up.” Luigi stepped back from her with a sneer.

The woman erupted into laughter. “I had no idea you were this fucking stupid. You really thought this old fuck was Nathan? Wait until I tell Daddy about this. There’s no way you’re going to inherit GeneCo.”

“Fuck off, Amber! I’m not listening to a dumb slut who thinks she fucking knows everything. Get out of my way before I cut you, cum dumpster.” But Luigi didn't make any move for his knife.

“You're full of shit.” Amber smirked, circling around her brother before pushing him away. “Let me know how your little meeting goes. I'll be waiting.” She winked at him before reclining on the couch again. Luigi was shaking with rage.

Once again, the henchgirls were guiding Ford to the elevator, and he visibly shuddered from that familial exchange. At least his siblings were never quite that horrible. Luigi went right back to giving him a dirty look once they all entered the elevator. 

Ford had a feeling it would be a long elevator ride, but that was only confirmed when he saw that GeneCo had over a hundred floors. It didn’t help that every few floors, more people would be entering or exiting the car. Sometimes it was scientists in lab coats, other times it would be people with bandages over parts of their faces. Occasionally there were doctors, nurses, and even research volunteers.

Ford had to wonder. Had his life gone as planned, could he have ended up working for a gigantic company that would actually have appreciated his knowledge and talents?

Out of all the people entering and leaving the elevator, one scientist in particular stood out to Ford – mainly because he reminded him of himself. His jawline wasn’t as defined and he certainly had a smaller stature, but it was there. Although he looked about 10 years younger than Ford, the resemblance was there. Under his lab coat, he wore an orange dress shirt with a tie and dark blue slacks. Most interestingly, he wasn't wearing a hat, but… it didn't look like he had his signature birthmark, either. So there was a chance it wasn't Dipper. Ford couldn’t bring himself to believe it was his nephew, who was a teenager just a few hours ago.

Until the other man said something first, after they had been awkwardly studying each other for a few moments.

“… Great uncle Ford? Is that you?”

Ford nodded and opened his mouth to respond but Luigi cut him off, immediately shooting a look at the other man. “Mason, get your ass back to your office and work on that DNA sequence you promised us.”

Dipper’s eyes hardened for a moment before the fire flickered out. “It's already on my agenda for today, Mr. Largo. But, uh, I see my uncle has been very uncooperative.” He gestured to the women standing around Ford. “Let me talk with him and see what he wants. If you still need him, you can find my extension in the company contact book.”

Luigi rubbed his chin and turned around to face Ford. It was the first time he really got a good look at him - he was too blind with rage to notice in the limo that, no, this man was not Nathan. It was extremely easy to mistake him for the Repo Man, but he had an older, broader face. Humiliation began to wash over him. No way was he bringing this old man to his dad and claiming he was Nathan. It’d completely ruin his chances to own GeneCo.

“Fine. Do what you want with him,” Luigi replied. “But I’m holding onto his stuff. This is a classy fucking establishment and I'm not letting some old guy wander around with a gun. You'll have to come upstairs and get it for him.” The henchgirls stepped away from Ford and promptly released him from his handcuffs. Even though his hands were now free, the old man kept them behind his back to hide his six fingers.

“Understood, Mr. Largo.” Dipper grit his teeth and waited for the elevator to hit the 81st floor. When it did, he signaled for Ford to follow him out.


End file.
